I tell him I do. He looks at me with tired eyes and a tired smile. "I miss Brooklyn. When I found myself in this city, I forgot to bring many things." "Any friends?" I asked. He almost looks even more tired. "Lost him."
I made a generator for fruit and vegetable titles like “strapping young guava” because there’s nothing like random generators to hand out new terms of endearment I can use on my assorted followers, friends, and family
Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know, what’s it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that’s the secret. Not the punch you didn’t throw or the kicks you didn’t land. She merely wanted it. Every Slayer… has a death wish. Even you. The only reason you’ve lasted as long as you have is you’ve got ties to the world. Your mum, brat kid sister, Scoobies. They all tie you here but you’re just puttin’ off the inevitable. Sooner or later, you’re gonna want it. And the second - the second that happens, you know I’ll be there. I’ll slip in. Have myself a real good day. Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you’ll like it as much as she did.
an allison argent-centric teen wolf atla au would be the realest thing, though